


Cute

by LotusGirl



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged Up, Alcohol, Drinking, First Meeting, M/M, fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusGirl/pseuds/LotusGirl
Summary: It was supposed to be relaxing, drinking themselves silly and being idiots.Then Kuroo went off schedule and invited a stranger.Or:Fukunaga and Taketora meeting in a bar for the first time.
Relationships: Fukunaga Shouhei/Yamamoto Taketora
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Cute

Taketora drummed his fingers on the counter, nervously peering around the club.

He was looking for the  _ trash man _ he called a friend who was the reason he was even there.

_ “Hey, man, you’ve been looking kind of terrible lately,” Kuroo told him ever so nonchalantly but with a hint of concern in his voice. He could only roll his shoulders. _

_ “Yeah, work’s been kind of a pain and I haven’t gotten a lot of downtime but it’s fine.” _

_ The rooster head draped his arms over him, saying, “When’s your next free day? You deserve a break and we haven’t gone drinking together in a while. We could go to my club.” _

_ A smirk grew at the sound of his voice. He was right, he needed a well-deserved break. _

_ “Sounds great. I’m free Friday.” _

It was a great idea, really. They’d round up their group of friends, laugh, drink and do whatever other things they’d end up doing in their intoxicated state. Except Kuroo wasn’t there yet, and it really wasn’t cool to go out alone, especially when you were waiting for someone.  _ Like being stood up for a date. _ He stared at the shot glass in his hands and decided, screw it, and took his first drink of the night. There was no way he was going to keep waiting and one little shot wasn’t going to get him drunk. Though that may be an ill-advised decision, given his impulsiveness, and he might’ve started angry-drinking.

“‘Freakin Kuroo. . ,” he muttered.

Speak of the devil, there was the trash man himself, walking through the front door, but something caught him off guard. 

Or rather, someone.

Alongside Kuroo was a boy he hadn’t seen before. He had wide eyes and small, narrow pupils, almost like a cat, and tiny eyebrows with short, choppy black hair. The way he dressed, and his baby face, made it look as though he was bringing a minor into a club. Little pastel clips speckled his hair and he was wearing a soft Hello Kitty hoodie. He was expressionless, just curiously looking around as he followed Kuroo inside.

At the first opportunity, he grabbed his friend and pulled him aside.

“Dude! Why are you late, you’re never late! And who the heck is that!? Are you trying to sneak some teenager in here and get them wasted?!”

He had the  _ audacity _ to laugh and say, “No no, it’s cool, he’s legal. A few weeks ago, he did me a favor and I forgot I owed him a drink so I decided to bring him. Sorry I didn’t tell you first.”

Taketora sighed. His friend could be a real handful sometimes.

“It’s fine, don’t do it again.”

They turned back to see the last minute guest he brought, who was now sitting at the bar counter, sipping some form of liquor. 

“He seems kind of weird. . . He’s not like an axe-murderer you just met, right?”

“I mean, he’s a little weird but he’s no mad-man. You’ll probably like him once you get to know him.”

Kuroo slapped his back, effectively forcing him forward and went to drag in their other friends.  _ Kuroo is honest, I can probably trust him, _ he thought as he hesitantly took a seat next to the walking Sanrio meme. The guy was still expressionless, and quite frankly, his wide eyes were unnerving, like he could see everything and pick him apart to understand him from the inside out. They must have sat there for an eternity, not saying anything. What a pain. He coughed before holding his hand out, saying, “So you know Kuroo? Me too. I’m Taketora.”

A sleeve-mitted hand slowly took his own, gaze unwavering. 

“So what’s your name?”

No response.

_ This is so awkward, it might be what kills me. _

“You look really young, how old are you?”

The man pulled an ID card out of his pocket and slowly slid it towards him, still sipping on whatever fruity beverage he ordered. 

_ Fukunaga Shouhei. 24, _ he thought.

_ Just talk to me, it’d make this easier, _ he also thought.

Instead, Taketora laughed, “Wow, I never would have guessed.” As if that meant anything, and turned to look back at the club around them. The waitresses and performers were all wearing pretty corsages of red and white flowers, ones he probably couldn’t name if he tried.  _ Since when do they wear those. _ They were kind of nice, a contrast to the usually dirty, seductive vibe the place gave off. He must have been staring because he felt a hand tap his shoulder. Turning around, he looked back at his tablemate, so to speak, who took a moment to think before pointing at the girls and seeming to mouth, ‘Do you like them?’

“The girls? Or, the flowers?”

Fukunaga nodded.

“Uhh, yeah, I guess. Flowers are usually nice to look at, and those little arrangements are really pretty. It reminds me of my high school dances, actually.”

Then, something a tad bewildering happened.

He  _ smiled _ , looking incredibly pleased with this response before taking another shot. 

_ I guess he likes flowers. _

Taketora turned back to his own drink and snorted and tapped his hand to show him the sight across the room. Kuroo was horribly drunk, draping himself over Kenma, who was having none of it, and bemoaning, “Kenmaaaa, staaaay~ It’s so lonely here without youuuu.” The blonde had absolutely no sympathy for him and let him fall on the floor.

“What an idiot, he’d probably drink himself to being the next meme in one night,” he exclaimed and saw Fukunaga covering his mouth, laughing at both the sight and what he said.

_ Cute. _

They were definitely both a little tipsy by now, snickering over meaningless things and talking about subjects neither of them would understand sober. Taketora fondly stroked his hand, slurring, “Y’know, you’re real cute. . . Like reaaaal cute. Much cuter than anyyyyyone else here.”

He didn’t seem to mind the touching or the compliment.

It might have been the alcohol, or maybe they were just warming up to each other, but he heard him speak for the first time since entering that club.

“I’m glad you think so. . .”

His voice was very soft, almost as if he never spoke. 

Taketora, happily buzzed, rested his head on the other’s shoulder but it was not five minutes later when he felt his head being moved and he saw him standing up. “What are you doing?”

“I shouldn’t get too drunk since I’m walking home, and I have work tomorrow morning.”

“Ehhh? You can’t leave, It just started getting nice!”

Fukunaga giggled before pulling out a sticky note, scribbled out a number and something else on it, and sticking it in his hand. “Maybe we’ll see each other later,” he murmured and squeezed his shirt sleeve before leaving for real.

For the next half hour, he stared at the sticky note.

_ Call me- Fukunaga _

_ Xxxx-xxxx-xxxx _

Maybe this was the start of something, maybe it wasn’t.

* * *

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

It probably wasn’t the greatest idea to be talking to a hungover Kuroo, but he had questions and no one else was going to answer them anytime soon.

“Mmmmm what is it.”

“What was the favor that Fukunaga guy did for you?”

He watched as Kuroo popped in an advil and taking a long drink of water before speaking. “He’s the florist that sold me those flower corsage things for the workers and for dirt cheap, too.”

_ He’s a florist. _

A head hung on his shoulder, staring at the sticky note in his hands.

“You two really hit it off, didn’t you?”

“Shut up!”

**Author's Note:**

> . . . I really like Fukutora. If that's what the name is.
> 
> I swear my writing isn't this bad.


End file.
